


In dreams I see [you up in flames]

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-06
Updated: 2007-10-06
Packaged: 2019-02-13 13:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12985299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They were just passing through, a detour from an accident on the highway.





	In dreams I see [you up in flames]

****1** **

****

****They were just passing through, a detour from an accident on the highway. The night was silent around them, a foreboding quiet that crackled in their ears like a lightning storm. Sam checked the map, letting the faint blue light from his flashlight follow the line through the small town before it met up with I-83 again.

“This looks like as good a place as any to stop for the night, Dean.”

Dean nodded absently, his eyes following a thin line of smoke creeping across the sky. Moments later a fire truck screamed by them, sirens blaring out a warning through the rumble of the engine.

One mile up the road they could see the flames. Sam felt his breath catch in his throat, the acrid scent of smoke clouding his lungs. His jaw clenched in pain as everything flashed through his mind.

_Mom, surrounded by flame. His father’s shout._

_Jessica, blood dripping down onto his face; Dean’s hands pulling._

_Dad, here and then gone, coffee splashed up onto his leg and across bleached linoleum._

Then a new face, a spray of black hair fanned out across the ceiling. Crystalline blue eyes marred by deep black circles, a crease of worry furrowed into her forehead. The image swirled down, his stomach rolling in protest as it changed direction until he was staring into the face of a younger girl, a mirror image of the woman on the ceiling, her daughter, the reflection of the flames flickering in her eyes.

Dean’s hand on his shoulder pulled him back, vaguely aware of the blood seeping from his nose, the biting taste of copper in his mouth. Sam barely realized that they had stopped across the street from the burning house, the blur of light flashing across his face echoing across from his vision into reality.  
  
A screech of tires had both brothers snapping their heads up at the sound. A woman climbed out of the car, visibly shaking, even from across the street. She fell on her knees in the grass, hands hanging limp at her sides. The wind and electricity in the air had her black hair rising up, licking at the night like the fire consuming the house in front of her.  
  
Another girl ran over to the woman, the same black hair like a stain of ink blotting out the orange blaze of fire. The two women wrapped their arms around each other, falling together like two pieces of a puzzle.

The air outside broke, a streak of lightning burning across the sky, an exclamation of thunder punctuating in the silence. The rain fell heavily, dousing the flames and soaking the two women huddled together on the lawn.

 

**2**

It had all started with a dream, an unrelenting dream that triggered pain and nausea throughout Eva’s entire body. Blood had poured from her nose as she bolted upright in bed, her body revolting against the images that flashed in her mind.  
  
_Fire._  
  
Her sister, Elizabeth, would find her huddled on the floor of the bathroom, soft, cool hands over the clammy layer of sweat soaking through her pajamas. Elizabeth’s gentle eyes would calm her, easing her back from the nightmare, coaxing Eva into the bath like it would wash away any remnants of the dream from her mind. The pattern shifted, teasing her with months of freedom, only to bombard her night after night for a week until they finally decide to bring her to a doctor. He had no answers, though. They never do.  
  
It went on for years, endless doctors examining her with no answers. Dark circles grew under their mother’s eyes, worry creasing her face. The same cool hands stroked over her back, holding back the straight black hair all three women shared as Eva emptied her soul into the porcelain bowl. Her mother watched from the doorway, the silence of her retreat louder than the thrumming of blood under Eva’s skin. The same gentle eyes calmed her, promising care and devotion behind the clear blue gaze. Her sister stayed.  
  
Her mother went with the fire.

 

\--- --- --- ---

Everyone was moving too fast. Arms pulled and pushed, dragging Elizabeth out of the rain, off the grass in front of the house. Sounds blurred in her ears, questions rolling off her skin with an unfocused glance, the soft slick of water soaking into her skin until she felt bloated, water-logged; she was drowning.  
  
She ignored them, concentrating only on the sharp intake of breath and stuttered trip of heartbeat clutched in her arms. Eva’s eyes were glassy, half whispered syllables of apology and pain falling from her lips.  
  
_Couldn’t stop_  
Didn’t know  
Can’t  
Can’t  
  
Mom  
  
The world stopped and started with every hitch of breath. She tried to remember, hands smoothing gently over rumpled fabric, her mouth forming words repeated endlessly over the years. No blood this time, but the actualization of a dream and it was much, much worse than the threat lurking in the back of her sister’s mind.  
  
Consciousness came only with a firm hand on her shoulder, a rough attempt to pull Eva from her arms, but in this faculty she refused to fail and tightened her grip further, eyes flashing violent at the intruder.  
  
They wouldn’t meet her gaze, not a soul in the room as she glanced around, realizing subconsciously that they were at the hospital. A skittish doctor shifted awkwardly as the heat of her eyes slipped over him, taking in the sight of the syringe in his hand with a visible stiffening of her body.  
  
Her voice finally found purchase, pitched deep and rough from swallowed tears.

“Get the fuck away from me!”  
  
A figure shifted into the doorway, shadowed by a taller man, their presence choking the air out of the room and distracting her enough that she almost missed the hot sting of the needle into her flesh. As she fell away from her sister, she felt their gazes pass over her; eyes flickering open to find warm hazel from across the room and then closing to the black tinges of the sedative.

 

\--- --- --- ---

The motel room was small. Cramped, really, only enough room for the two full beds and an overstuffed chair that had seen better days. The bathroom was more like a closet, a slight dip in the floor housing the drain and a plastic shower curtain drawn across the middle presenting a vague definition of a shower. But it was clean and cheap, and Sam refused to leave town until they looked into the cause of the fire.  
  
Sam fell onto the bed in a quiet jumble of shoes and jeans, not even bothering to tug the rough coverlet over his legs before the pain throbbing dull behind his eyes and the sensation of finally stretching out after a full day of driving pushed him over the brink of sleep. Dean took his time, pulling the boots from his brothers feet and tucking one of the blankets from the other bed around Sam’s shoulders before collapsing into the chair, grimacing as a spring coiled ruthlessly into his back.  
  
He sat and watched. Watched Sam sleeping, the slow rise and fall of his brother’s back as he slept working a rhythm back into Dean’s own breath. Blood from Sam’s nose crusted dark red against his sleeve where he had wiped at the seemingly endless stream. It was a too familiar pattern, chasing after these visions, but this was the first time Dean had felt so restless about it. He could feel the energy of hunting thrumming under his skin, the scent of Sam’s blood and the electricity of the storm coursing through his veins seeking an outlet. This was supposed to be over, the demon well and truly dead with a magic bullet that turned cold black smoke to lifeless ash.

Sam was supposed to be alive; ready to return to the life he had walked out on his family for once Dean’s year was up. The words flickered back to him, _not Sam, not Sam, how sure are you?_.

Dean’s gut clenched, watching Sam’s face tighten and relax in the cycle of his dreams. Years ago, he could have left, gone and dulled his senses with beer and sex, but he refused to leave Sam alone now. So he sat. And watched; listened to the rain pour its sorrow out against the windowpane.

 

**3**

Waking up was like stumbling through a fog of smoke, darkness curling around the corner of every surface like the edge of a page curling tightly away from a flame. Voices murmured in the background, hollow and tinny like echoes filtering into her ears. The sound of her name wafted through, the hard edges smoothed away until it sounded soft and familiar in her ear. _Liz… Lizzie… Elizabeth._

“Elizabeth.”

Her eyes opened, taking in the harsh fluorescent lighting glaring down at her, the blurred features of someone leaning over her. The world shifted in and out of focus, edges dimmed with the black curl of smoke and sedative. A hand brushed softly against her palm, blunt fingertips mapping out the lines timeworn into her skin. Elizabeth felt her body relax on instinct, her sister’s petite form coming into focus beside her.

“M’sorry Eva. Should have been there. Shouldn’t have left you alone. ‘Sposed to protect you.”

Eva squeezed her hand, shaking her head against the guilty words spilling from her older sister’s mouth. She leaned close, the whispered words meant only for Elizabeth’s ears.

“Nothing you could do. I’m the one whose been dreaming about this for the past fifteen years.”

A cough from the doorway broke them from the private moment. Two men stood just outside the doorway, hovering between the hallway and the privacy of the room the women were in. The taller one spoke up first, urged forward by an almost unperceived nudge by the shorter man.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but we were wondering if we could ask you ladies a couple questions? About the fire, that is?”

Eva’s features tightened, vibrant blue eyes narrowing to fierce slits against the pale contrast of her face.

“I already gave a statement to the police. Who’re you?”

The shorter man stepped forward, hands up in the air as if to block the daggers shooting from Eva’s eyes.

“I’m Dean. This is Sam, my brother. We don’t want to cause any trouble, just ask you some questions. We think we might know what happened. To your mom.”

Eva tensed visibly, held back from lunging herself at Dean only by Elizabeth’s hand on her arm. Sam stepped forward, placing his tall frame between Dean and Eva, his eyes glued on Elizabeth’s face. He spoke calmly, but a haze of worry clouded against his eyes.

“Please, just a couple of questions. I’m so sorry about what happened, but I need to know if it’s connected. Did either of you see what started the fire?”

Elizabeth tightened her grip on Eva’s arm, her protective instinct in full force despite the lingering grip of sedative that kept her in the bed. Eva pulled her glare from Dean’s face, looking up at Sam defiantly.

“I was there.”

Sam stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Behind him Dean shuffled impatiently, but stayed silent, allowing Sam’s calm nature to diffuse the girl’s anger.

Eva spoke again finally, her now quiet voice directed at the floor as she stared at her feet.

“M’not crazy.”

“No one said you were.”

“I haven’t even told you what happened yet. You might change your mind.”

“Please. Just tell me.”

Silence buzzed through the room, the high whine of fluorescent bulbs sharp above the sound of four people, waiting.

“Mom was… on the ceiling. Just like in my dreams.”  
  
Dean’s head snapped up, staring at the woman in front of them, her face almost hidden now by the drape of dark hair falling over her pale skin. Sam drew in a breath sharply, almost unnoticeably, but Elizabeth caught the quick sound, covered up by the heavy fall of Sam’s foot as he stepped closer, his hand held out in offering in front of Eva.  
  
“Trust me Eva, you’re not crazy.”

Dean stood back in the shadows, watching. Elizabeth glanced at him, sensing the invisible connection between the two men, the subtle shift and nod of secret language unknown to anyone but them.

Sam stepped closer to Eva, a dwarf next to his large frame, his voice pitched low enough that she could only catch short snatches of words.

Psychic. Dreams. Visions. My mother.

Eva’s eyes went wide, confusion clouding her face as she took in whatever this strange man was conveying with soft words and his presence wrapped around her like a blanket of smoke. When she looked back at Dean he had moved, standing next to her bed now, hands tucked into his pockets. He smiled at her tightly, some sort of compassion shining through the mask he kept carefully in place.

“I’m sorry. About your mom.”

Elizabeth didn’t know what to say to that, her mother had almost been a ghost even before she was gone, but it still felt like she would walk through the door at any moment, too slim and too pale but still alive.

“Me too.”

 

\--- --- --- ---

Sam and Dean left after a few more minutes, leaving Eva trembling but silent. Sam pressed a strip of paper into Eva’s hand before he left, a pleading expression on his face before he pulled away and followed Dean out the door. Elizabeth pushed, shooting a pointed look at her sister but Eva refused to talk about what Sam had said and what he had given her.

“I can’t tell you. Not yet, Liz. Please. Please just let me deal with this by myself for once?”

Elizabeth wanted to fight, wanted to shake Eva for trying to isolate herself when all she wanted was to be able to help, to protect her little sister. But she recognized the determination shining through bright blue eyes, the same look her mother used to get before the dreams started. There was no arguing with that type of determination.

A few hours later, the hospital released her, the sedative finally out of her system and rationality calming the frantic pace of her blood. The two women checked into a motel, cheap and outdated, but clean enough to make do until they could manage the task of finding a new home, the only place they’d ever lived burnt to a shell of blackened timber across town.

Elizabeth laid down on one of the double beds; hands flat on the coarse thread of the coverlet as she watched the ceiling and waited for it to burst into flame.

 

**4**

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breath. Heavy weight suspended over her, trapped beneath knees and thighs, fingernails breaking as they scraped against the sheets struggling for purchase. There was no light except behind him, a black silhouette crushing her slowly, pushing the air out of her chest and covering her with a solid dark weight that allowed no breath to be drawn in.

She was drowning, thrashing through water stained black like oil and mud, the imprint of fingers burning into her ankle, pulling her down down down under toward the end. Pitch black below, backlit by burning fire, surrounding his edges with flame. Disguising his face. Water seeped into her mouth, forcing out the last dredges of air from her lungs, a trail of fire down her throat to pull out her soul.

She was running, full out burnt out fighting for her life. A steady pound of feet on pavement, on gravel, on ice, on sand. Never ending never beginning. The constant lick of flame at her heels forcing her onward. The sound of his voice in her ear.

_Don’t stop._

The room was cold when she woke up, sheets drenched with sweat, each breath pulled in harsh and sharp like it would be her last. The light switched on, dark shadows covering a face and sending her falling out of bed to get away. The figure turned, the light from the lamp catching her profile. Her sister called out, voice echoing in her ears like they were miles apart instead of a few feet.

“Eva? What’s wrong? Sweetie, calm down… it’s me. It’s Liz…. Eva? EVA?”

The darkness returned, a slow slip from the back of her mind, sliding forward to cover her eyes.

 

\--- --- --- ---

Eva’s body slumped to the floor, palms bloody where her fingernails broke through the skin. Elizabeth ran her hands over Eva’s body, pulling a slip of crumpled paper out of the pocket of her sister’s jeans.

_Sam 866-907-4561_

She dialed, hands shaking on the cheap plastic motel phone as she pushed in each button. It rang twice before a deep voice filtered into her ear. Elizabeth choked back the sob threatening to spill from her throat, shoving the distress back into her mind so she could focus.

“Sam? Oh. Dean. It’s Elizabeth. Yeah, from the hospital. Something’s happening to Eva. What? I don’t know. She passed out. Please, Dean. I don’t know what’s happening. We’re at the motel, in room 18.”

Elizabeth dropped the phone back into the cradle, curling onto the bed next to her sister so she could feel each breath drawn into Eva’s lungs like it was her own lifeline.

“Come on baby girl. Mom’s gone already, don’t you leave me too.”

 

\--- --- --- ---

Sam walked out of the bathroom, tucking his shirt back into his jeans as he walked.

“You know, Dean, I think it’s really odd that we just happened to be here when this happened. I mean, do you really think this is such a…oof!”

Sam grunted in surprise as Dean shoved a jacket into his hands, turning back to the bed to load his gun with bullets without a word.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

There was a soft click of metal as the clip slid into Dean’s gun, the hair on the back of Sam’s neck standing up like Pavlov’s dogs to the scent of food.

“That girl called. Something’s happening to her sister. I think it might be another vision. I don’t know, Liz just said that Eva passed out.” Dean shrugged his jacket on, slipping the loaded weapon into the back of his jeans after he had flipped the safety into position.

“Liz? Jeez, Dean, you were in the room with that girl for all of fifteen minutes. I think you said maybe ten words the whole time we were there!” Sam shoved his arms into his jacket, grabbing a gun out of the duffle on his bed and checking to make sure it was loaded.

“Why’re we going in there like the S.W.A.T. team anyways? She said Eva passed out.”

Dean pulled the door to their room open, glancing over his shoulder at Sam. “You know better than to think I’m walking in anywhere without a weapon on me. ‘Sides, no matter how cute the girl is, she could still turn out to be a whack job. I’m not willing to take the chance quite yet.”

Sam rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind him as they walked out into the cool night air. He paused, glancing at the Impala gleaming in the parking lot as Dean started walking along the front of the motel.

“Uh, Dean? Where’re you going? Car’s right here, dude.”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, gesturing for Sam to follow him. “You see any other motel’s in town? They’re staying here, ya idiot. Now come on already.”

Sam looked at the car one last time before jogging over to catch up with his brother. “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

Dean waved the apology off. “Whatever, dude. Just get your head outta your ass before we get to their room, okay?”

Sam whacked Dean across the back of his head with his palm open, ducking back quickly to avoid the elbow thrown at his ribs.

 

\--- --- --- ---

Elizabeth didn’t get up off the bed when they knocked, but it didn’t matter; the door was open. Dean walked in first, gun tucked heavily into the waistband of his jeans, out of sight but never out of reach. He scanned the room, a mirror image of his and Sam’s but rumpled with the debris of two women instead of the scant mess that he and Sam made. Always ready to pack up and leave at a moments notice. Elizabeth and Eva weren’t hunters though, a spill of makeup visible on the bathroom counter and towels chucked up over the edge of the open bathroom door to dry. A peek of satin bra dangling in reflection from the towel rack in the bathroom that made Dean smirk for a fleeting moment, wondering which girl that piece of lingerie belonged to.

Eva was still out cold, curled up like she was holding something secret in her belly. Elizabeth slumped next to her, fingers absently brushing through the fan of black hair laid out on the bedspread. Sam approached her slowly, gentle fingers settling on her arm to get her to look up and away from her sister. She shrugged him off at first, tugging Eva closer to her frame on instinct until the light through the open bathroom door glinted off the gun at Dean’s back.

“Who the hell are you guys? The fucking brute squad?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, cut off by a stern look from Sam, finger pointed at him that said ‘keep your mouth shut’ with no words exchanged. He calmed his face, looking back at Elizabeth who was trying her best not to have a meltdown on the dingy bedspread next to her comatose sister.

“Just relax now, okay?”

Elizabeth stood up from the bed, anger flashing across her face as Sam tried to placate her.

“No! I will not just _relax_. You are going to sit down and tell me what the _fuck_ is going on or I’m going to call the police. And you can put the guns away too while you’re at it.”

Dean pulled the gun out of the back of his jeans, flashing it at Elizabeth before thumping it down onto the dresser beside him.

“You really want to know what’s going on? Fine! Your sister there has been having _visions_ since she was a little girl. Visions that apparently came true the other day when your mom burst into flame pinned to the freaking _ceiling_. And that really sucks and I’m really sorry, believe me – but these visions probably mean that Eva is connected to this demon we’ve been tracking for the past twenty odd years, this demon that I fucking _killed_ two months ago. So, I’m sorry if it seems a little harsh for us to come in here armed, but I, for one, am not taking any chances. Okay?”

Elizabeth sat down on the bed, her face paling as Dean ranted on. Her hand shook as she lifted it to touch Eva again.

“Does it have yellow eyes?”

Sam snapped his attention back to Elizabeth, eyes widening.

“What?”

“This… demon. Does it have yellow eyes?”

Sam exhaled loudly, like all the breath in his body was rushing out at once. He wavered on his feet, stumbling back until his legs knocked into the edge of the other bed and falling onto his ass gracelessly. His eyes went blank, staring at his hands like they held the answers to all the questions swirling through the room.

“No. It’s supposed to be over now.”

Dean had his gun in his hand, weapon shifting back and forth between Eva unconscious on the bed and Elizabeth, pale face crumbling as Sam went catatonic on the dingy motel room bed.

Dean clicked the safety off, drawing Elizabeth’s eyes up to his hands with the echo of noise in the quiet room. Lightning flashed, bright white flooding the room before it plunged into darkness. A pair of eyes flared golden fire. Dean pulled the trigger.

 

**5**

Dean shifted, turning away from the hands pulling at his shoulders roughly. He reached for his knife on instinct, fingers scrambling at the sheets where he should have found cold metal.

“Dean, wake up.”

Dean opened his eyes, the touch of Sam’s hands and the sound of Sam’s voice pulling him from sleep. A quick glance revealed his knife tossed onto the coverlet of the other twin bed. Sam flushed, releasing Dean’s shoulders as he moved to retrieve the blade.

“Sorry, didn’t want you to stab me. Couldn’t get you to wake up for a bit there – what the hell happened?”

Echoes of _not Sam_ swirled through Dean’s head. He looked up at his brother, worried hazel eyes scanning across his sweat coated face.

“S’nothing. Just a bad dream.”

 

**6**

I-83 disappeared behind them, storm clouds on the horizon crackling, the red spray of emergency flares lighting up the rear view. Sam shifted the map spread out on his lap, his finger tracing the line of highway across crisp paper.

“This looks like as good a place as any to stop for the night, Dean.”

Dean looked up, followed the thin strip of smoke curling into the sky, foot pressing harder on the gas as they sped through town, picking up speed as Dean merged back onto the highway.

“Just a little further, Sammy.”

**  
**


End file.
